Unfaithful
by PastaInABox
Summary: One-shot. The roles are reversed, and England is torn between his feelings for France and America, yet he can't seem to stop cheating on France for the American who he's now fallen for. The pain has never gone away-but will England's decision finally bring an end to the Frenchman's suffering, all while revealing his dark secret? Warning-Character death, FrUK, & hinted UKxUS


**One-shot, I won't continue this. Based off the song, Unfaithful. I started writing this after hearing the song, and had a dark!Hetalia moment. ._. Kolkolkolkol. ^J^ Forgive me if there's a tiny bit of OOC, and I do realize the story would've worked better if the roles were reversed in this. (You'll understand once you read it o3o) Honestly, I can't really picture a dark!Francis, therefore, I didn't place him in that hollow, evil role. And also, I had a softer, more 'weaker' side of Francis, you could say, in this, hence the reversed role (As I said before, I believe this would have worked better with the roles reversed; England in France's place, ect.) **

**Warning for FrUK, Yaoi, and hinted England x America. Enjoy, read, and review. ^^**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing ._.**

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"Arthur, speak up. It's not polite to ignore, you know." Scolded Francis quietly, leaning against the wall and raising a glass of wine to his lips. Arthur sat across from him on the couch in front of the coffee table, a hand on his forehead, keeping silent. He gave the slightest shake of his head, turning slightly away. Francis sighed softly, a frown etched along his lips as he wiped traces of wine from his lips, for once rather disgusted at the taste-the Frenchman's stomach was in knots by now, and even he couldn't bring himself to drink. Lowering the glass, Francis took a step toward Arthur. "Don't." The Brit's voice was almost rather strained, perhaps even…fearful?

_Story of my life  
Searching for the right,  
But it keeps avoiding me. _

"Don't what?" Francis' tone was quiet, and the Frenchman narrowed his eyes slightly, icy blue gaze flickering over to the Brit. "Don't try. It's useless. Don't act like you actually forgive me, stop pretending. Don't give me that shit, Francis." The odd ferocity in Arthur's voice startled the Frenchman…but then again, it wasn't the first time he'd heard it.

_Sorrow in my soul  
'Cause it seems that wrong  
Really loves my company._

Arthur shut his emerald eyes, rare tears threatening to stream down his cheeks; he barely managed to hold back the urge. He couldn't stand it..all those times he'd hurt the Frenchman…shouldn't it have been the other way around? But no…that damn American always had to interfere. Always had to step in, to _attempt _being the so-called hero he claimed to be. It had always ended in disaster and cold heartbreak.

But then again…Arthur should never have gotten such feelings in the first place.

Love was such a…_human_ emotion, wasn't it?

_He's more than a man  
And this is more than love  
The reason that the sky is blue._

Francis hesitated, glancing aside for a moment, before setting down the glass of wine and stepping over to Arthur, carefully sitting down beside the Brit. "Mon ami…I won't stop trying. I _do _forgive you…" The Frenchman's voice faltered, which resulted in Arthur abruptly slamming his fist on the table. Francis flinched, and sighed softly as Arthur spoke. "Just stop it, Francis. I know you too well. It hurts for you. I know it does." Arthur choked out, visibly trembling a bit. Francis lowered his head, glancing aside slightly as Arthur continued. "You're jealous of Alfred. It kills you to see me with him, doesn't it?" Arthur whispered, eyes flickering open as his emerald-gaze flickered to the Frenchman.

_The clouds are rolling in  
Because I'm gone again  
And to him I just can't be true._

If Francis denied it, Arthur would've already known it to be a lie. Of all the times the Frenchman had caught him and the American together, the hurt in his icy blue gaze, dulled with pain, was unmistakable. Shouldn't the situations have been reversed? Shouldn't it have been Arthur in Francis' place? Arthur knew well enough how deeply he would've wished to switch places with Francis, to make that pain his own, just to end the Frenchman's internal suffering. No matter how much the flamboyant Frenchman would deny Arthur's words, Arthur would always know the truth behind it. In all his years of knowing Francis, of once being so distant, so ignorant in his presence, never before had he sensed such pain, _saw _such pain, coming from the Frenchman. It was always the other way around. Until now.

_And I know that he knows I'm unfaithful  
And it kills him inside.  
To know that I am happy with some other guy  
I can see him dying._

"…Yes, it does." Francis growled out slightly, glancing aside to avoid meeting eyes with the Brit. "You and I both know it does. It hurts. It always has. I can't stop you from seeing him, can I?"

Arthur scowled and arched a questioning eyebrow. "Francis, you know my answer to that. I'm…I'm sorry, but no, you can't. "

The pain flickering in the Frenchman's gaze forced Arthur to look away, closing his eyes for a moment as they flashed a dark crimson color; much to Arthur's brief relief, Francis had failed to notice..

"I should have expected better of you, mon ami." Francis breathed out with a soft sigh, closing his icy blue eyes for a moment as he stood up from the couch, turning away slightly.

It should've been far more simple than this…right? That pain…that heartbreak…Arthur couldn't bear it. Alfred was no help to the situation; after all, the American had caused it all, and Arthur had fallen for him. The Frenchman had never before experienced such a pain as deep as this…and quite frankly, Francis hated Arthur was doing this to him, for changing him…

The old-fashioned hate sparked inside the Frenchman, and the same occurred to the ignorant Brit.

It would never be simple. The fiery passion of hate that flashed between the two never lessened, even now.

_I don't wanna do this anymore  
I don't wanna be the reason why  
Every time I walk out the door,  
I see him die a little more inside._

"Francis…" Arthur clenched a fist, hesitating for a moment before he stood up, gaze flickering back open. The desperation flashed within the Brit's eyes, glimpsed briefly by the Frenchman, who glanced over his shoulder at Arthur, sadness glimmering in his icy blue gaze. "I…I'm sorry…I just…I can't do this. Not anymore. I'm sorry…" Before Francis could react, he found himself gently pinned against the wall, feeling the Brit's warm breath momentarily at his ear. Arthur hesitated, before turning his head slightly and gently placing a rather brief kiss to the Frenchman's lips. Francis closed his eyes for a moment, gently kissing the Brit back, with the heated passion only the Frenchman could muster before Arthur slightly pulled away, a sigh escaping his lips. Arthur would miss these moments, he had to admit, that he and the Frenchman shared…but yet, the cruel, inhuman urge tugging within the Brit hissed at him to get on with it, to do what he had to do…

It would be better than watching the Frenchman's internal suffering, something Arthur couldn't bear to see any longer. The more he betrayed him, the more he left Francis for Alfred, the more Francis would die on the inside. He could always, _always _see it in those mesmerizing, icy blue eyes, no matter how hard he wished he could make the pain go away. But now…perhaps Arthur wouldn't have to see the pain any longer…

"Arthur…_Je t'aime_…" Francis murmured softly, the unmistakable hurt flickering in his gaze that, once again, Arthur couldn't bear to see. The Frenchman's words only made the Brit's hollow, blackened heart ache even further.

Even Arthur knew at least enough French to know exactly what Francis' words had meant.

_I don't wanna hurt him anymore  
I don't wanna take away his life._

"Francis…" Arthur murmured the Frenchman's name softly, his emerald gaze flickering up to meet with the Frenchman's…only for those pained, green eyes to shift into a darkened shade of crimson red, almost black.

And…maybe even _soulless_.

"Forgive me.." Whispered Arthur, detecting the Frenchman's startled gasp as Arthur stared into Francis' eyes.

Arthur shifted slightly, this time pinning the Frenchman hard against the wall, raising his hand slightly as the curved, black claws slid out like a pair of grisly talons from his nails…only to swing his hand back down, the black claws glistening sinisterly.

_I don't wanna be,_

Dark, crimson blood was spattered onto the wall as claw met flesh, the single, brutal swipe tearing open Francis' throat. A dull _thud _sounded, as the Frenchman dropped to his knees on the blood-slick floor as the crimson liquid streamed down from his throat, dripping into the forming puddle around the Frenchman. Slowly, Arthur stepped back, claws dripping with Francis' blood, as his pained, crimson gaze flickered with faint alarm as just slightly, Francis raised his head, shaggy, blonde hair shielding his expression in shadows. Trembling violently, Francis opened his mouth, only to let out a single name.

"A-A-Arthur…!" This was followed by a wheezing gag-in turn, Francis vomited up his own blood, the crimson liquid streaming down either side of his mouth, desperate gaze momentarily meeting with the one he fearfully and pleadingly called for. "A-Arthur…" The Frenchman choked out, his voice raspy, just barely audible enough for the Brit to hear him, before the last few ounces of life vanished from the Frenchman's eyes, and he finally dropped limply to the wooden, blood-slick floor, his blood-stained hand outstretched toward, fingers twitching just once, before the Frenchman grew still.

_Forgive me… _

A single, black tear silently streamed down Arthur's cheek, his crimson eyes slowly fading back to emerald-green as Arthur dropped to his knees before the Frenchman's body, bloody claws slowly retracting as Arthur gripped his head in his hands, trembling as he shut his eyes tightly, unable to look at the sight in front of him.

The devastating glimmer in Arthur's gaze remained there…even as he, ever so slowly, raised his head slightly at the faint sound of a gasp.

Arthur's aching heart sank at the sight of Alfred standing in the doorway, looking directly toward Arthur and the fallen Nation.

Ah, of course.

Realization slowly set in, as Alfred backed away from the door, horror flickering in his gaze, devastation lingering in the Brit's eyes at what he had done.

The Country of Love had now fallen…

And the pain was still there.

_A murderer… _

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**Cliffhanger, baha. o3o **

**To be honest, I found the last few sentances in the ending a bit rushed, after I had finished this. I'm sorry if this story didn't make much sense, but eh. Also, for those who haven't figured it out, I used demon!England in this, hence the claws, eye color, and...well...death. o3o Also, I'll admit that France's death was hard to write, sense I'm a hardcore France-lover D8 Killing off Hetalia characters is not my strong point, yet it makes me wonder why I enjoy killing them off in the first place, especially in fanfictions. Dunno if that even made sense . XD Also, I apologize if there are any spelling or mechanical errors. **

**Hope you enjoyed; read and review ^^ **

**-PastaInABox**


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